


That's not my name

by Blackie_xenphonex



Category: Blade (Movie Series), Walking Dead
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairings, I have no Idea what else to put., M/M, Possible Character Death, Possible M/M, Raise your hand if you think this is kinda fucked up how much I ship this, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2017-12-23 22:29:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/931801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackie_xenphonex/pseuds/Blackie_xenphonex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the governor decides to take his revenge against the remaining survivors in the prison, Daryl is separated from everyone.  In his mind some may be dead or worse.  While running away from the prison alone night falls and he finds a familiar Storage ware house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Thats not my name, Not anymore.

Chapter 1

It had been afew hours after the major attack on the prison, forcing everyone out. The walkers had overrun it and had taken some of their group with them. Daryl was told to run, he felt so humiliated. He did what he had to, but let alone he was told by Carol. He didn't even try to protect her, he didn't even know if they were alive. He had been ridding his motercycle for hours. He need to stop. He found a warehouse that looked very familiar to him, he didn't know why but it did. Every part of him was telling him to move on, but he decided to stay. The worst that could happen is that that place was infested with walkers.

He sighed as he pulled in to the rocky drive way, where there were two abandoned cars. One van and one black Chevy. Though strangely the black Chevy looked pretty new considering the circumstances.

He looked around for a way in finding keys under a mat and the door they fit in a few feet away. He walked in, crossbow raised. There were no unwanted noises or any walkers inside the compound. He looked through rooms, doors, closets, and found nothing. He let out a sigh of relief when he found a bath room. He might as well try. He turned the shower handle and to his surprise water came out, Hot water. "Thank you, God." He said under his breath, in case he wasn't alone.  
\--------------------------------------------------------  
Blade POV  
Blade sat in his own room, when the opening of a door disturbed the silence. He let out a gruff sigh and opened the door to his room slowly, his katana slung around his shoulder. He saw a man, not too old, about the age of 32, walk in, a crossbow in his hand. He was pretty dirty too. But how did he find the key, while, yes, It was under a mat, the mat was old, it was too simple for anyone to find it. The young man looked familiar. Someone he met, a familiar? He couldn't see his face clear enough. He mad his way silently, following the man, along the top platforms of the Warehouse, and when the man made it to the upper levels, blade went down. The stranger had walked into the room next to Blade's. He then herd water running. "Found the Shower." He thought. He heard a familiar voice that belonged to the man. "Thank you, God." he heard in the quiet of the Compound.  
\--------------------------------------  
Daryl POV  
After taking a long shower, or what felt like one, he walked out, leaving his dirty shirt in the bathroom. With a towel around his neck. The scars from his past's faded remembrance on his chest and stomach. He never really thought of them, or remembered how they got there. He grabbed his crossbow from the wall it leaned on and walked out. He needed to know when he would be staying for a little while. He walked out into the middle of the compound, his crossbow hung at his side.

The man finished and walked out of the room. He began traveling around the warehouse. His crossbow slung at his side. Should be easy to disarm. Then he noticed them. The scars that he thought would never fade, across his back, stomach, chest, there was no way it was him. He decided to get a closer look at the man. Blade made his way, closer to the stranger and say his face. There was no way, could it be him. "Skud?" Blade thought aloud.

He flinched. He hadn't been called that name in years, and when he was called it, it brought back bad memories. Daryl turned around to see an African american man standing in front of him, possibly the same age as him. He knew this man, but he couldn't remember. Why couldn't he remember. "That's not my name. Don't call me that." He said sternly, the crossbow aimed right at the mans head. "Who're you?" Daryl asked.

"I need you to answer that question, before I tell you my name. Are you Skud?" The taller man demanded.

This man knew him. "Yeah, But not anymore. I hate that name."

A slight smirk of disbelief crossed the taller man's face. "Blade." He answered.

This man in front of him was Skud. Now he was older, he sounded different. Why didn't he recognize Blade? "B?" There was what he wanted to hear. Then Skud's face twisted into an angry smirk. "There is no way in hell your Blade."

Though Blade didn't talk much he needed to clarify this.

"I am. We worked together. I saved your ass a few times. Those scars, you don't remember what happened?" He asked.

"I don't. Its been a long time. But if I remember correctly You almost killed me." The younger man laughed.

"But I didn't. I forgave you." Blade let his own smirk drop into a scowl.

"I thought you were dead. I thought my past was gone. But I cant seem to get rid of any of it." He sighed, giving a scowl of his own and dropping his crossbow to his side again. "But you are B, so I shouldn't complain that you didn't slit my throat when I came in."

This man was Blade. There was no doubt about it. Some memories ran back to Daryl others didn't.

"And my name's not Skud anymore." He spat out the old name like dirt. "The name's Daryl. Daryl Dixon." Blade looked at him like he was stupid.

"Why'd you change it?" Blade asked. "I didn't, that's my real name. Not some stupid nickname that almost got me killed." Daryl laughed slightly and walked to the old station he worked on. "And what about those cartoons?" The older man asked.

"That was the weed. Not me. You saw how much of that shit I smoked." Daryl flipped through some old journals. "And the inventions?"

"I work on engines now. Don't even remember how to build this stuff anymore."

"So, 'Daryl'."

"Yup." He responded. "Oh and one more think. Though I'm sorry I tried to kill you, I will not hesitate if you call me Skud again." He shot a glare at the tall vampire and pushed himself up onto his old work table to sit down. "The only things I cant get rid of, are you, and this." He said, sticking his bottom lip out to show and old tattoo he hated so much.

-8 PM- Daryl POV

It kind of felt awkward. Since he had found out Blade had lived in the compound. Blade told him about what had happened since He had left and how this all started for the older man. Daryl had gone out for some hunting at 7 and returned at about 8:40. He set down a string of 7 squirrels and repaired the old gas stove in 20 minutes.

"So B, You still on that 'medicine' the old man used to give you?" He asked.

"No. I ran out a week ago." Blade answered.

Daryl sighed. "Man B, If you go ape shit on me, on O' these arrows is goin' through your head."

"Sk-Daryl. Where'd the accent come from?" Blade chuckled.

Daryl smirked, "When you live with your brother in a trailer park, this happens."

-2 AM- Blade POV

Daryl had fallen asleep with his crossbow in hand and an empty bottle of beer at his side. He was snoring lightly.

"What happened to the Skud I knew?" Blade asked himself. This new person, looked like Skud, sounded like Skud, but didn't act like the kid he used to know.

Daryl started twitching and mumbling in his sleep. His face twisted into a pained expression. "Carol...Run..." He mumbled. "Don't make me leave you... Not you too." He huffed.

Who else did he have to leave? He mentioned an older brother, and a sister figure whom had lost her daughter. He didn't speak of them much though.

Just what did this kid have to go through


	2. Gone to hell and back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl still had connections to the vampire arena back before it went to shit. He heard rumors, stories, and lies on a daily basis. But... Just before everything changed, he heard a rumor he thought impossible, but he knew blade wanted to hear it. The old man was alive... brought back.... Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and let me know what you think. Though the old man really IS dead, thought I'd bring some action into this.

Daryl POV

About a week after everything was sorted out, living acomidations were made for Daryl and food supiles were spit up.  There were still things pressing on Daryl's mind, alot of rumors that he had heard among some of his conections. One continuously popped up, with every thought.

_It was about 3 months before the world went to shit. Daryl was woring his job, his normal shift while his brother sat on his ass at home. When one of his connections came in. A younger kid, about 14, maybe 15. She didn't work with the vampires, she just ran around colecting the information._

_She was his main supplie for all info. A short 5 ft 1 in kid. He'd laugh id he had anytime to think about her._

_Her words still haunted him, She said "The old man is still alive." By this point Daryl pulled her ove rthe counter into the back room, shouting question after question. She told him to slow down. He did._

_"How?" He asked._

_"Don't know. All I know if that they brought him back, same as last time." She replied._

_"Where is he?"_

_"Back in the dark part of the city. Y'know, the one without all those street lamps and houses. Just all forest?"_

_"Yeah, Now... Does **HE** know?"_

_"No."_

_That was the end of their conversation. He let her out through the back. And that was the last he saw of her._

_  
_He didnt know if she was alive or not. Hell, he couldn't even remember her name. He NEEDED to tell Blade, but he was too afraid of having a gun pointed at his face... again.

* * *

 

 

Blade POV

Daryl had avoided him for a few days, he thought he'd be chatty... but then again, He had been through alot.

There were times Daryl would talk to him, but mostly is was a, "You doin' ok?" or a "Don't screw up my stuff." Kind of thing.

Then there was one day, he heard Daryl talking to himself. He just coninues an argument with himself.

"Sould I tell 'im?"

"No! Do you want your brains blown out!?"

"No, But he still needs to know."

The argument just went from there. He hadn't confronted Daryl about it yet, but he knew he needed to.

((I know it sucks but i just ran out of motivation.))


	3. Whistler, The old man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blade decides to confront Daryl on his secret, things may get violent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TELL MEH WHAT YOU THINK PLEASE!!!

\--12 pm--Lunch--Daryl is cooking squirrel--AGAIN-- Daryl eats quickly. Blade had come to that conclusion. He guessed he didn't like to talk. But Blade decided to at least confront the issue of the secret Daryl was keeping.

"Daryl." Blade tried to distract Daryl from food.

It worked, thank god. Usually he'd have to ask mutiple times.

"Hmm?" Daryl grunted.

"You're keeping something from me."

"How do you know that?" Daryl looked shocked, and a little bit worried.

"You talk to your self. You think about telling me something. What is it?"

"Shit, B... You weren't, I mean..." Daryl couldn't think, how could he have known. Shit.

"Tell me." Blade said sternly.

"No, I can't--"

"Tell me."

"The old man's alive! Alright?! You understand why I coudn't tell you!?"

"Wh...How? He's dead, burnt up! D. E. A. D." He growled

"WELL THEY BROUGHT HIM BACK AGAIN!" Daryl raised his voice. "I dunno how but... I mean... They just did... same as last time. Don't blame me."

"You didn't think to tell me??"

"I DIDN'T WANT A GUN IN MY FACE AGAIN! Especially not by you!" Daryl sounded stressed now. He stood up threw his food away and walked to his room, locking the door behind him.

Blade didn't feel like being yelled at but him, especially not buy him. He hated when Daryl got stressed, he'd always keep stuff in. Even back then when he had problems, back when he was Skud. He'd stress out more and more than he did now. A fear of screwing stuff up, he guessed.

\--next morning-- Blade cooked breakfast--eggs from the chickens out back--

Blade was planning on going after Whistler... but he needed the location from Daryl.  He wasn't awake yet but he'd waited long enough. Daryl usually slept about 6 hours when not stressed. And a good 13 hours when he was. It had been 15 hours. So he was VERY stressed.

Blade walked in, slowly. He didn't want to be shot. Daryl was on his stomach, face down in his pillow. Blade poked his shoulder. Darly didn't move. He started to roll the sheet back off of Daryl's torso. A tattoo of wings. Large enought to cover his back, shoulder blade to shoulder blade. He ran a hand along his spinal cord, feeling the bumps of the ink under his skin. Not a new tattoo, but not an old one either. Maybe a year.  Daryl moved now, He growled at the tickling touch on his back. He then went back to sleep. Blace shook Daryl's shoulder, he growled again and he heard a muffled, 'go away.'

"Get up, I need to ask you something." Blade stated.

Muffled, "Too early."

"No, It's 11 am."

Muffled, "oh." Daryl picked his head up, his hair was messy and sticking up in the front. "What'daya want?"

"Where is Whistler?"

"Oh... God... Hang on..." Darly uncovered himself and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Um... Darktown. Not far from here... Um.. maybe... a half hour drive. I know they haven't moved him. Hopfully he hasn't rotted in his cage."

"Good." Blade started to walk out, Darly said one last thing.

"He's not human anymore. Can't bring him back again. Not like last time. He's been like this for months... he'll be angry... and hungry."

"Then you come with me."

"What? 'Re you gonna feed me to him?"

"No, Just you know your way there and back. I might need you. Just incase of a detoure."

"Oh... Fine... You're lucky you're the only person I like."

"Guess I am. Also means that's why I'm still alive."

Daryl chuckled and began getting his gear together.


	4. Black Town Warehouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting through black town wasn't all that easy. But it wasn't walkers that were hard to get past, it was the debris. The cars in the road, along with crumbled houses.
> 
> They found the warehouse, they found where they kept Whistler, but he still hated Daryl.

A dark Warehouse. Though there were many windows, no need for artificial lighting. The doors were open, broken open.  
Daryl and Blade made their way slowly through the ware house, finally making it to middle of the dark town warehouse. There was a large room in the middle, no windows but one on the door. The cage clearly made from steal, being so rusted over time. Blade walked in first, Daryl following close behind. Then they heard it, a loud groan. Not like the walkers, but like a human, tired from begging for help. But, The old man wasn't human anymore, they had no way to feed him either, unless blade was going to. This was something Daryl was afraid of. The old man attacking Blade, draining him dry and deciding he was wasn't enough. Or even drinking the day-walker dry at any point.

Another groan came from the iron case. "Old man." Blade replied to the groan in a slow voice.  
"We need to hurry up, if we're gonna do this we need to do it now." Daryl whispered to the half vampire.  
"I know, We need to break this open."  
Daryl pulled a crowbar out of his tool bag and passed it to Blade, who then jammed it into the rusty door. After a few tried the lock broke, then he heard the old man let loose. Banging on the door hard, in human from the old man. Blade gestured to Daryl to leave the room and close the door behind him. Daryl did so, he didn't want to become part of Whistlers meal.  
\--5 minutes later--  
Over a period of time the growls and groans became less and less. Blade called to Daryl, and the knot in his stomach. "He's done, come in. Slowly."  
Daryl did so, every step taken slowly. "B, he sane?" Daryl asked.  
"Yeah, but he isn't--"  
"The fuck is this?" The old man said. "He's fucking alive?"  
"Oh... he's pissed."  
"The fuck are you doing here?" Whistler yelled at him.  
"Savin' yer ass!" Daryl yelled back, "Now shut it or we're gonna all be dead."  
"You're dead any way once I get my hands on you!"  
"Stop." Blade said sternly.  
"He fuckin' started it!" Daryl argued.  
"And I am fucking finishing it." Blade replied.  
"What's with hill billy accent?" The old man laughed.  
"I don't know, what's with yours?"  
The old man growled, while Daryl smirked.  
"So then, Spud--" Whistler was cutoff by Daryl's correction.  
"Daryl."  
"What?"  
"My name is Daryl. How many times am I gonna have to introduce myself in a week." Daryl sighed.

((I'm gonna add more later, but I'd thought you'd like some of a preview.))


	5. Home-ish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Much has changed with while Whistler was sleeping, more than any man could ever imagine.

They walked out of the warehouse, quietly. Blade went first, then Daryl, then Whistler. It had been a quick trip there and a quick trip back. Whistler and Daryl argued all the way back.

* * *

 

"Where in hell is everyone?" Whistler growled.

"Dead... or trying not to be." Daryl responded and walked inside, following Blade. He set down his crossbow and took off his jacket, tossing them both. "B, I might be needin' new bolts soon. Where can I find them?" He asked the other man, ignoring any other questions Whistler had.

"What do you mean dead? Or tryin' not to be?" Whistler asked in the same grumpy tone Daryl was all too used to.

"Walkin' dead, man. You get bit, you get sick, you die, you come back, and eat everything in sight."

"Vamps?"

"Hell no. This is alot worse. These things don't even think. Rotting flesh that's still walkin'." Daryl replied.

"How long have I been gone?" The old man asked, slight shock in his voice.

"Five years." Blade and Daryl said at the same time.

"And you didn't come get me five years ago!?" Whistler yelled.

"I didn't know you were alive until yesterday morning." Blade commented.

"And you?" He pointed a finger at Daryl.

"I knew you were alive for two years, but I promised myself I was done with vamps and shit."

"You lousy sack o--" Whistler cursed, only to be stopped by Blade.

"Whistler. Calm down."

"Calm down? CALM DOWN!? You expect me to calm down when this shithead let me turn this way? Why is he even alive?"

"At least you can still walk in the sun--" Daryl started.

"I'M NO BETTER THAN THOSE WALKIN' DEAD!"

Daryl took a step back, eyes wide. He'd always known Whistler to have a temper, he expected it, he nearly killed the man, ratted them both out. But he didn't think he'd actually feel... bad for the man.

"I'll have my stuff cleaned out in the morning. I'm gonna go find Carol." He mumbled and headed off towards the ladder that lead up to the second floor.

"Carol?" Whistler seemed to calm down, he was curious.

"She's like my sister... or well, the little angel on my shoulder anyway." Daryl replied and headed into his room, leaving the to vampires to converse amongst themselves. He felt guilty for not finding Blade sooner and it surprised him.


	6. Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an argument between Blade, Daryl, and their newest(kinda) add on, Whistler, Daryl wants to leave. He feels unneeded and a bit unsafe being around two vampires and there being no serum or substitute. What's a human to do?

 

It had been a day since the argument. Blade had marveled over how Whistler could still stand the sun. He hadn't a clue how. He didn't dwell on the subject and was more worried, yes, worried about Daryl leaving. Since the argument the man had been quiet, he barely said a word. He just packed his things one by one over the hours. Daryl came down from the rooms, cross bow and bag in hand. He glanced back at the two and turned to walk out the door. "Good riddance." Whistler grumbled.

The human snapped around was on the old man in a few seconds, hands balled in his shirt. "Y'know what, fucker. Calm your saggy tits! I'm leavin'! You have no reason to comment on it until I've left!" He growled, "You ain't got the right to make me feel any worse than I already do for leaved her, keepin' you locked up in that cage, and now for feelin' guilty each time I think I may get my neck gnawed on by either of you if I take the wrong step!" Daryl pushed the old man back in his chair, adjusted his bag on his shoulder and walked out. He hadn't a clue where he was going, any where could have been better than that place.

He grit his teeth. He wanted to kick something. After a moment of glaring at Whistler the way the old man had when the half-vampire was in his youth, he walked after Daryl. He grabbed a gun, just in case. When footsteps matched his own, Daryl know exactly who was following him. "You got the old fuck back. Have a happy apocalypse." Daryl says lowly, not even turning back to Blade. He hears a small sigh behind him and suddenly the Vampire is in front of him.

Daryl flinches for the first time in a while. He then glares. "Look, B. Stop it with the stoic shit, I'm done." He makes a move to step around Blade but he's pushed back quickly. "You're bein' a sulky little punk." Blade comments. Daryl gives him an incredulous look and rolls his eyes. "You an' I both me an ol' saggy tits in there don't get along." Daryl raises a brow and gestures back to the warehouse.

"Just cause he yells at you for trying to kill me."

"C'mon B, not you t--"

"You did try to kill me."

"B--" "Admit it. You're sulking."

"I'm n--" Blade smacked a hand over Daryl's mouth. Daryl wasn't a fan of contact and wanted to pull away, though Blade had a firm grip on his jaw. He frowned quite deeply. "I'm not moving my hand until you admit it."

Daryl went to mutter something about Blade being an ass but Blade only raised a brow, since the sentence came out in only a few rough sounds. Daryl is quiet for a moment. and grabs Blade's wrist. He tugs and Blade moves his hand. "Fine, I'm sulking. Sure." Daryl admits, "Doesn't make it any less nerve wracking that you both could tear out my larynx if you got hungry enough." he adds. There's a hint of a triumphant smirk on Blade's face.

"I'll take care of Whistler, don't worry about him tryin'a gnaw on you." he says.

"And you? I know you're out of serum, man. The more days that pass, the worse it's gonna get." Daryl argues.

"I'll work on that." The half-vampire muttered.

Daryl rolled his eyes, "I'm keepin' my door locked from now on you Whistler doesn't try to bash my face in."

"If you don't feel safe in your room, try another one. Mine has more locks." Blade suggests. The hick gives him a sideways look and starts to head back to the warehouse.

* * *

 

The moment they got back inside Whistler blew up on Daryl. Asking him why he hadn't left, what the hell the man was doing. He even questioned Blade. Darly brushed it off and walked back up to his room. He set his things down, shed his jacket, unloaded his cross bow and examined the locks on his door, cursing when there was only one and it was one that he could easily break with his human strength. This was going to be a long night.

 


	7. Sleep

After a few days of bickering, Daryl and the old man couldn't stand being in the sane room. Even during dinner, the air seemed thick between the two. When ever the old man went to say something, Daryl only rolled his eyes and stopped listening.

However, there was one good thing to come out of this. No. Never mind. Not really. You see, the room Daryl had been staying in was originally Whistler's. The old man forced him out and now, Daryl was sharing a room with Blade, who slept quite strangely. He slept either in a chair or on the floor sitting up, while Daryl took the bed.

Daryl wasn't exactly comfortable with sharing a room with the half vampire who had missed two doses of his serum already.

* * *

 

It was .... difficult the first few days of Whistler's return. The bickering would only stop if one of the men walked away. It was usually Whistler who walked away grumbling "I'm too old for this.

It was difficult when the two of them had to share a room. Daryl liked to sleep practically nude, he also liked to sleep face down. Which wasn't terrible thing. It gave Blade a nice view of the Winged tattoo Daryl had. He'd usually kick the blankets off in the middle of the night. Blade didn't sleep. His throat would burn for a split second, his vision would highlight a few... 'choice' places on Daryl's body then it would fade again. He would growl quietly, then get up from where he was to cover Daryl. This was the routine.

Whistler knocked quietly, then entered the bedroom. "The boy's not safe." Whistler mutters.

"He knows." Blade replies. He doesn't look to the man behind him.

"I'm sure he does. But one of these days you're gonna get up from that chair and he's not gonna wake up the next day, because you drained him dry." Whistler's tone darkened.

Blade turned around quickly, "I won't hurt hi--"

"You will. And you know it."

Whistler leaves and Blade holds his head in his hands. He curses being born the way he was.

He'd have to find a substitute soon or Daryl would have to leave.

* * *

 

Surprisingly, Daryl woke before Blade. He wandered out of the room after pulling on his pants. Whistler was already away and sipping some cheap coffee they had found in an already looted convenience store.

Daryl sits down and lays his head on the table. "Nothin' snarky to say to me this morning?" Whistler comments then sips his coffee.

"Jus'... shut up." Daryl growled.

"Such a scathing remark, how ever shall I reply?" The old man snaps.

Daryl could feel a headache coming on. He groaned quietly.

"Yer getting sick." Whistler hums.

"No.... I don't get sick." Daryl protested, the headache worsened.

"Unless you want to die from what ever you've got, I suggest that you get more rest."

"Shut up."

"Will I have to get the only person who you do listen to down here?" Whistler raised a brow and set down his mug.

"I don' listen to nobody." Daryl growls and tries to block the sun from his eyes.

"I'm gonna go see if Blade will get your stubborn ass back in bed." Whistler stands up from his chair and walks off to wake Blade. Daryl was a handful, even more so now with what ever he was coming down with.

Blade comes trudging down the stairs and he walks to the table. He glares and he instantly knows Daryl has a fever. It would be amusing if he weren't so irritated with being woken up. :Go back to bed" He says.

"No." Daryl growls, "It's jus' a headache."

Blade glares. His temper was quite short these days, as was his patience. He quickly grabed Daryl's arms and e pulls the man over his shoulder in a fireman;s hold. Faryl panocs, he struggles and growls, though he's too weak to keep iy up. "B, put me down." He groans.

"Well you didn't have to carry him." Whistler laughs.

"When he puts me down I'm smashin' your nose in." Daryl threatens. Blade puts him down on the bed and the human doesn't move. He's tired again. He rolls over on hid stomach and hugs the pillow.

"Smash my nose in my ass." Whistler smirks. Blade glares.

"Fuck off..." Daryl groans. He closed his eyes and not a second later, he's asleep.

. . .

"You didn't do anything to him, did ya?" Whistler asks.

"What!? No!" Blade continues to glare, "He's probably got a cold or something."

"Well, keep an eye on him... just in case it's somethin' worse than that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment. Do it. Just do it. Compliment, criticize(nicely), leave I random word, I don't care. I want comments.

**Author's Note:**

> I have terrible punctuation and spelling! FORGIVE ME!! This is also my first fic. Let me know what you think.


End file.
